As part of our vacation this summer, we had the profound privilege of walking through the home where Anne Frank and her family once hid. It was a deeply moving experience—one that stirred something in my soul.
Anne Frank was born on June 12, 1929, in Frankfurt, Germany, to a Jewish family. When Hitler rose to power in 1933 and antisemitic persecution intensified, the Franks moved to Amsterdam, hoping for safety. For a few years, Anne enjoyed a relatively normal life—until 1940, when the Nazis invaded the Netherlands and everything changed.
In July 1942, when Anne was just 13 years old, her family went into hiding in a secret annex behind her father’s office. For more than two years, Anne kept a diary—pouring her heart into the pages with honesty, wit, hope, and insight. Her words reflected a soul wise beyond her years.
Eventually, their hiding place was betrayed. On August 4, 1944, the family was arrested. Anne and her sister Margot were later deported to Bergen-Belsen, where they died of typhus in early 1945—just weeks before the camp was liberated. Anne’s father, Otto Frank, was the only family member to survive. He later found her diary and fulfilled her dream of becoming a published writer. The Diary of Anne Frank was released in 1947 and has since inspired generations to stand against hatred and injustice.
If you read her diary, you’ll find page after page of courage and light. One quote now hangs on my wall:
“How wonderful it is that no one has to wait even a minute to start gradually changing the world.”
Isn’t that powerful? I’ve always believed that one person—through love, action, or presence—can change the world… or at least the world around them.
Maybe it’s boldly speaking out when you see injustice.
Maybe it’s giving to our St. Luke’s on Broadway offering to help feed the hungry.
Maybe it’s simply listening when someone needs to grieve out loud.
Every small act of love ripples outward.
On Saturday, I officiated a funeral in Tulsa. The pastor who serves the church in Tulsa, parents are members of Okmulgee United Methodist Church. They’re now facing serious health challenges, and we talked about how the church can be a lifeline during times like these. I asked if people were bringing meals. She said, “Yes—as a matter of fact, there’s a man who used to visit our church’s food pantry. He’s now back on his feet, and he brings my parents a meal once a week.”
That, my friends, is the power of God’s love in motion. Years ago, that man’s world was changed by the kindness of a church. Now he’s passing that same love on to others.
Anne Frank was right: No one has to wait even a minute.
Let’s keep changing the world, one act of compassion at a time.
-Rev. Linda Harker, Pastor of Connections
